


Void of Love

by TheMissluluB



Series: Horuss's Void [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Past Rufioh/Horuss, Running away from life, Sad, Super Sad I Cried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 03:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11523762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMissluluB/pseuds/TheMissluluB
Summary: Your name is Horuss Zahhak and you’ve ran away from your problems.





	Void of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this, I'm crying. 
> 
> Thanks 2 Liritar for the Title 'cause my brain ain't functioning for titles.
> 
> It's 12:30am.
> 
> [EDIT 21/07/17: Minor grammatical errors fixed]

Your name is Horuss Zahhak and you can’t take it anymore. You’ve come all the way out here for a reason, might as well act upon it. You sit just before the edge of the cliff, overlooking the ocean. You hate water, but you appreciate the view. The way the moons glisten off the water is pristine. Beautiful.

You’re having a picnic by yourself. 

Why are you by yourself? You would have invited Rufioh to come, in fact you were going to. You had it all prepared. Had this special idea that would make you both happy -- you had always loved picnics, and you thought he’d adore both the view and the forest behind you, might have reminded him of home, or something, you don't know. But.

But.

Well you both had things to say. You were being courteous, and let him say what he wanted first. You can’t say that you took it well, because, well, you didn’t. You think he’s just going to come back. He has to, right? 

You know he doesn’t, but the feeling is still raw. You think it always will be. 

To put a needlessly long story short you pushed him harder than necessary and ran away. Far, far away. You’ve only just stopped here. You’ve decided it might be better off living here. Far away from everything and everyone. 

Heh. That suits someone of your aspect.

You quietly eat the neatly prepared sandwiches you made -- peanut-butter, because you both had loved the filling and it’s vegetarian -- and listen to the sounds of nature. It’s peaceful. Quiet. 

You sniffle. There’s no harm in crying, you know that, but you are STRONGer than that. You can just pretend it didn’t happen. Pretend that you’re not broken. You’ve been doing that for your whole life, death, and reborn existence, so why should you stop now? There isn’t reason to. 

There’s no point. 

You cry anyway. 

You ignore all your messages, most likely “where are you?”s, so-called ‘caring’ messages. They’re just inquiries into your whereabouts, trying to drag you back into the mess that is social interaction. You can’t let yourself be dragged into a friendship circle again. 

You’re sticking to your guns on this one. You’re expatriating yourself from them. 

Wasn’t your post-scratch self known as that? How oddly fitting.

You wipe your eyes, sniffling again. It shouldn’t be too hard to live by yourself. You’ve been doing it for a while, anyway. Everyone will forget about you, anyway. It’s in your nature to. Being the Page of Void makes it be like that. 

You’ll just be known as the Side-Chick of a Cheater who Ran Away when he Broke Up with you, Never Seen or Heard of Again. 

You don’t know if you’re ok with that. You guess that old saying is true, after all. The one about ‘The grass is always greener on the other side of the pasture,’ or something. It’s certainly feels like that, anyway.

You curl up into yourself, sobbing. What’s the point in living without a heart? You want the Void to consume you into its darkest depths, to rip you to pieces until there’s nothing left. The “dashing rogue” took your breath away and broke your heart afterwards. 

You don’t know how you fell for it. You hate yourself for falling for it. For him. Everything would have been different, happier, if you hadn’t. Everything would be better. _They_ would be better.

The worst part is you can’t hate him, either. You can’t force yourself to. It hurts when you try. 

You sniffle once more, wiping your eyes. You take a deep breath, determined. You can do this. 

You can remake yourself. It shouldn’t be too hard, right?


End file.
